


Peace and Purpose

by LukesSpaceMilk



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Eventual Kylo Ren/Rey, Eventual Poe Dameron/Finn, Hux Backstory, Hux is Not Nice, Implied Sexual Content, Kylo Ren Backstory, Multi, Original Character(s), Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, SO, Seduction to the Dark Side, Spoilers, Young Ben Solo, will eventually cover TFA and TLJ
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 13:58:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13836222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LukesSpaceMilk/pseuds/LukesSpaceMilk
Summary: The tragic tale of Ben Solo, told from the perspective of an old friend.





	1. A Boy Called Ben.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16ABY
> 
> Nine-year-old Emil arrives at the newly-built Jedi Temple of Luke Skywalker and soon makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this piece from the Ep II soundtrack oddly calming while writing this.  
> Perhaps it's nice to listen to while reading, too? :)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZFqTOEAwWU

Emil could not help but fidget in her seat, the belt around her middle digging into her as mechanics around her continued to rattle with a disconcerting hum. Quite understandably her uncle had insisted she be escorted to Taris in a slightly more reliable ship, an interjection his courtiers had seconded.

"The _Millenium Falcon_ is no fit vessel for the niece of a Supreme Governor!" one had called, prompting one of Emil's chaperones to curl his fists in irritation. What the courtier had meant, of course, was ' _it's junk_ '.

Emil was inclined to agree. Her belt had come loose at one point during the journey and catapulted her into the dense forest of fur that was the _Falcon_ 's first mate. The Wookie had emitted a low growl Emil could not interpret, and the pilot had chuckled. Sensing mockery of some kind, she had folded her arms and marched back to her seat.

"Ignore the boys" the kind voice of a princess had soothed, brushing a pale yellow hair behind the girl's ear, "We'll be arriving soon."

Emil liked Leia the most. She'd encountered her several times before, as an old ally of her Uncle Mellowyn's. One attendant of the Supreme Governor's had once whispered to her that the Houses of Organa and Mellowyn were linked by blood. The idea had excited Emil far more than she cared to admit. A familial bond with Leia, she figured, would make her a relation of the _Skywalkers_. And what a fine thing that was.

"What if I'm no good?" Emil abruptly questions, her fears colliding with feigned over-confidence as the _Falcon_ tore through Taris' atmosphere, "Will your brother kick me out?"

As always, Leia was ready with a soft smile and a comforting hand. "Nonsense," she says, "The Force is strong with you, Luke himself said so. You'll do splendidly."

Emil sighs. As delighted as she'd been to accept the invitation to train with Master Luke, she was riddled with confusion. The process had been so swift her young mind had barely been able to comprehend it. One moment she had been mischievously lifting spectacles from the noses of boring tutors with her mind, the next she was peering in on a suspiciously hushed conversation between her uncle and the last Jedi.

"I feel as though its something I ought to have _inherited_ " Emil muses aloud. It was of little surprise that she should think such a way. Her Uncle Mellowyn held the position of Supreme Governor of Birren, a hereditary title. The idea of being possessing something not derivative of her bloodline jarred with Emil.

This Leia picked up on, raising a neatly plucked brow at the girl's imperious tone. She'd grown fond of Emil these last few years but recognised in her a haughtiness she hoped Luke would drive from her. Indeed, Leia had on occasion wondered whether the girl would treat her with such compassion were she not a _princess_.

"You can relax now, kid" Han Solo grins, easing back into his chair, "We're here."

After a typically bumpy landing, the _Falcon_ settles on Taris, a planet of four moons some way out in the Outer Rim. It had at one point been the victim of great decay, a discarded playing piece caught in the games of both Sith and Jedi. Though its landscape had recovered somewhat, it was still dotted with eerie swamps and even eerier creatures. Save its small towns to the North of the planet, Taris was scarcely populated, ideal for a fledgeling Jedi Order.

Emil had heard that ruins left standing on Taris now formed rooms for her and her fellow students. She wasn't sure how great a bedroom an old ruin would make, but she was sure Master Luke knew what he was doing. Besides, her Uncle had insisted she take with her a crate of belongings, to spare her the " _tasteless simplicity of the Jedi_ ".

"See? What'd I tell you?" Han smirks, following Leia and the girl from his ship.

As though on cue, a small metal part springs from the exterior of the _Falcon_ , the hole is leaves spewing thick smoke. Ignoring the weary look from his wife, Han calls out to his friend. "Dammit, Chewie, we've got another one" he exclaims, slapping himself on the forehead. With a thump or two, the Wookie soon appears to contribute his own growls.

Ignoring her fellow escorts' drama, Leia points to the grand structure that lies just below the plateau they'd landed on. "The first Jedi Temple to be built for many, _many_ years," she says, "What do you think?"

Emil gives herself a moment to take in her new surroundings. There was not as much green as she'd expected, with much the landscape submerged in a dusty brown. Far ahead, across an uneven plain some distance from the Temple, she could spot the edge of a forest, which comforted her. There was a lake nearby too, she noticed, though its waters were not exactly crystal clear.

"Don't be afraid now" Leia beams, sensing the young girl's apprehension, "This will be the greatest adventure of your life."

Leia's hand fixed firmly in her own, Emil takes her first steps as a student. She finds her legs are somewhat wobbly after her flight, but makes a conscious effort not to let her anxiety show. She would have to impress her classmates, after all. Would they like her? What if they were from richer families, grander Houses? Master Skywalker didn't train just _anyone_ , surely?

" _Han_ " Leia bellows over her shoulder, "Aren't you coming? Ben will want to see you". Han, wrestling with the Falcon's latest malfunction with Chewie frantically throwing tools in his direction, dismisses her suggestion with a swipe of his hand. "I'm a bit busy here," he says, "Just give his hair a ruffle for me, will you?". Emil notes the anger that flares up in Leia's eyes but says nothing.

Below the plateau, some metres from the Temple's entrance stands a lean man clad in flowing robes and a short beard. Emil notices he wears only one glove, a peculiar form of fashion she thought but one fitting of only the finest Jedi. Silently, she files through her inventory stored on the _Falcon_. Knowing her governess, at least four pairs of gloves had been packed for her. To possess so many seemed silly now she'd learned it was appropriate to wear only one at a time.

"Welcome," Master Skywalker greets, withdrawing his hands from the sleeves of his robes. With a nervous gulp, Emil reaches onto her tiptoes and shakes it, ashamed of how clammy her palm must feel. "It's a great honour to have you join us". His was a kind face, just like Leia's, and a _wise_ one too. Emil finds herself calmed by her presence.

"You're the last to arrive" Luke continues, "Once you've settled in, I'd be happy to guide you through the Temple with your fellow students". Emil feels her heart leap at the prospect. Her fears give way to excitement, her pale face lighting up with wonder. Unbeknownst to her, Luke and Leia exchange fond smiles. After all they'd experienced in their fight against the Empire, and the challenges still thrown at them as the New Republic continued to find its feet, it brought them joy beyond measure to see the defenders of the future so gripped by _awe_.

"The other students" Emil poses, "Are there many?". Luke turns and gestures to the plain in front of them. Several children, all of them close to her age, stand and run about, some already forming together in clumps. A lump pushes its way into Emil's throat. Would there be any space for _her_ in such friendship groups? Raised in a Palace, she'd had only the offspring of visiting nobles to play with. Her social skills were not exactly primed.

"Not many" Luke reassures her, "When you and your peers are trained, I should like you all to help me train the next generation. That is how we will rebuild the Jedi Order". The girl's imagination is sent into overdrive. In a flash, she envisages herself as a grand Jedi Knight, elegant saber in hand as she lectures a collection of small children on the Force.

Another question, too typical of her inadvertently pompous nature, draws her from her fantasies. " _Who_ is it I'm to be trained with?" she ponders, meaning obvious, "Only, my Uncle heard from Viscount Malreaux that his son was-"

"Most of your fellow students are from poor villages, Emil" Master Luke patiently explains, "Some are orphans". The girl bows her head by an inch or two, perhaps more attuned to her insensitivity than first presumed.

"I'm an orphan" she mentions, "My mother died two years ago, and I never knew my father". She suddenly scrunches her small features into a perplexed frown. "My Uncle refuses to talk of him. I don't know why". She's sure to notice the knowing looks her escort and new Master exchange. Something stirs deep inside her, an _odd feeling_ that only grown more intense since she'd discovered her sensitivity to the Force.

It was an _odd feeling_ that sometimes brought the mischief out in her, but one her tutors rarely bothered to address. She was sure some of them were frightened of her when in her more foul moods. That she couldn't comprehend, being a nine-year-old of particularly small stature.

"Sleeping quarters have been prepared for you" Luke informs, something in the girl prompting him to change tact, "I'm sure we can beckon someone to help you-". He spots someone walking near. "There he is. _Ben_!"

One of Emil's new peers dashes forward. He was paper thin but tall for his age, his limbs hanging like overlong pieces of thread from a particularly baggy shirt. His face was narrow, and dotted with freckles, but pleasant to look upon. Two dark eyes sat above sharp cheekbones, and atop his head spiralled a succession of jet black curls. His locks did not quite reach his ears, but he seemed determined to make them so, Emil noticing him gently tug at them at least twice in the mere seconds he had been present.

"Emil," Luke introduces, "This is my nephew, _Ben_."

Somewhat clumsily, the two shake hands. Emil assesses him to be only a couple of years her senior. Immediately she resolves to befriend him. To be trained by a Skywalker was thrilling enough. To be on good terms with a _Solo_ too, especially one her age? All anxieties were slowly seeping from the girl's body.

As soon as the two part hands, Leia swoops down to envelop her son in a warm hug. "I'm so happy to see you," she coos, affectionately stroking his lovely hair, "I do hope you've been settling in well". Ben had been the first to make the move, as the first pupil Luke had taken under his wing. Ben's transfer to Jedi training had largely been arranged behind closed doors, away from the boy himself. Not that it was impossible for the young Solo to press his ears to such doors, of course.

"I wrote to you, but you didn't respond" Ben grumbles sadly, turning his face away from his mother, "I've been practising my calligraphy, I wanted you to see". Leia tries to peck his cheek, but Ben dodges her.

"I'm sorry, darling" she speaks softly, "You know how busy things can be in the Senate, what with all the infighting. I _promise_ I'll write to you next time."

" _Sure_ " is Ben's stilted response. He looks past his mother's shoulder and quietly scours the near vicinity. "Where's Dad?" he asks.

Leia does her best to disguise the frustration building in her, none of it aimed her beloved Ben, only _Han_. "There's another problem with the _Falcon_ ," she tells her son, heart sinking as disappointment already begins to set in him, "He's-"

"Busy" Ben answers shortly, impatiently pulling his hair over his ears again.

Emil kicks up a small cloud of dust with her feet. Even at her tender age, she could sense the tension that existed between Ben and his parents. Where it began, she did not know, though she hoped her new friend would confide in her. Growing up, she'd always wished for someone she could _really_ talk to. Her Uncle was kind, perhaps _too_ kind, but he had never been as emotionally available as she'd have liked.

"Ben, why don't you take Emil across to the dorms," Master Luke encourages, gloved hand fidgeting at his side, "If my memory serves me correctly, the two of you are sharing". _Sharing_? Emil had never shared a room before. Even with such a roommate, would she like it?

Emil hears Leia murmur something to her brother as the two walk away, though she's sure Ben is ignorant of it. _"Has he started to calm down yet?"_

"Where do you come from?" Ben asks his new companion.

"Birren, in the Inner Rim" Emil replies jovially, "Lord Mellowyn is my uncle". Ben nods in recognition. Silently both of them wondered why they'd never met before, given the ties between their families.

Emil hears something jangle against Ben's belt. The sun catches something shiny, a long object she'd only seen in the form of drawings before now. Ben notices her fixation and unclips it from his belt, proudly holding aloft that which Skywalker men before him had wielded in many a crucial battle.

"A _lightsaber_ " Emil breathes, tentatively touching it with a shaking hand, "I've never seen a real one". Her Uncle Mellowyn had once heard that the great Mace Windu's saber was available for purchase from a travelling salesman, but had been outbid. Emil had then taken to building her own from whatever scraps the architects of Birren would gift to her. It was but a prop, a _toy_ , but she had been proud of it nonetheless.

"Uncle Luke gave it to me" Ben nods, fluidly twirling the saber about his fingers, "It once belonged to my grandfather". Fascinated, Emil watches the boy spin the weapon with ease. She imagined he'd been learning the ways of the Jedi for some time, given his background. She hoped to excel in her training but was content to concede _first place_ to Ben.

"It must be amazing, to have the Force so strong in your family" Emil utters, "None of my relatives are _Jedi_ ". Before she can resign herself to self-pity, she has an idea. "Perhaps my father was a Jedi."

"My uncle refuses to talk about him, so I doubt I'll ever know" she adds, also remembering the look Master Luke and Leia had exchanged when she'd mentioned him.

"I know how that feels" Ben reveals, his shoulders now sagging slightly, "My parents never tell me _anything._ I hear them whispering when they think I'm out of earshot". Again, he tries to cover his ears with his hair. Emil was sure tufts of it would come away in his hands if he persisted.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Emil questions, for once wondering whether her query was too impertinent. Ben's otherwise pasty cheeks flush a deep pink. Emil is content for the question to be ignored until her new friend actually opens his mouth to answer.

"My ears" Ben mumbles sheepishly, "They're too _big_."

Emil peers through the strands of black he'd managed to yank over them. Certainly, they were large, especially for a boy with such a thin face. Yet Emil found they didn't offend her. Indeed, there was something pleasantly unique about them.

"I've often thought my face was too _plump_ " she relays, hoping to console her new ally in some way, "I used to insist on wearing my hair down, to try and hide my cheeks". Ben glances up at her hair, registering the neat up-do it was now braided into. "I suppose I realised the only person _really_ noticing the plumpness of my face was me."

Ben allows himself a small smile. Despite spending only a matter of minutes in her company, he had already decided to call this _Emil_ a friend. Admittedly, she was the only person he had met so far who hadn't forced themselves on him. Many of the other pupils were excited by the prospect of training alongside a Solo, and were desperate to enter into his inner circle. Ben doubted any of them were genuine in their interest. _As always_ , he'd sadly reflected.

Casually chatting, the two enter the sleeping quarters of the academy. Very much built within an old ruin as Emil had worried, a number of rooms situated along a winding corridor. A sheet of cloth covered the doorways of each. Emil was sure to peer inside as Ben led her along. All rooms were identical, containing two beds, adorned with a single pillow and thin blanket, and two small tables. A basket was placed at the foot of each bed, presumably for the storing of uniforms. Emil gulps. This was _definitely_ not like her uncle's palace.

"Mine is the bed by the window," Ben tells his roommate, "But I'm happy to swap if you'd like". Emil had a fantastic view of Birren's capital from her old bedroom window. Still, she refused. "Keep it," she says, "I'll be quite happy on this one". She perches down on her bed and instantly feels the wooden frame digging into her behind. She takes a moment to inspect its softness, or lack _thereof_. To her relief, she had been given a mattress, though a predictably feeble one.

"Uncle Luke says it's in the spirit of the Jedi to live austerely" Ben exhales, indifferent to the puritanical nature of his surroundings.

"Where are all your things?" Emil queries, noting the relative emptiness of Ben's bedside table.

"Another rule of Uncle Luke's," Ben says, "We're allowed only a handful of personal possessions". He steps over to retrieve the ink-splattered pot standing proudly on the table, a thin pen poking out from it. The year was _16ABY_. Few in the galaxy wrote by hand anymore. Indeed, doing so was often seen as a hobby, a _curiosity_. "My calligraphy set" Ben enlightens his friend, a happy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "It's quite hard to do with no desk, though."

Emil turns her gaze to a corner of the room that appeared abandoned, as though begging to be filled. "I could try and make a desk" she offers, admitting only to herself how difficult the project would be, "I'm good at building things."

"My grandfather was good at building things, too" Ben speaks, restoring his beloved calligraphy set to its prior place and sitting on his bed with legs crossed.

"Did you ever meet him?" Emil ponders, clueless as to who her grandfathers were.

"No. He died before I was born, I think" Ben considers, "My parents don't like to talk about him". Just how secretive were the Solos? Emil did not want her perception of Leia to be tainted, but did she really have to leave her son to darkness in such a way? The girl sympathised with the boy's predicament. Whenever Emil asked of her father, her Uncle Mellowyn would dismiss her with more stories of her mother's beauty or charity. She had asked often how mother had died, too, only to receive the same response.

"Does Master Luke tell you stories about him?" Emil continues. Ben shakes his head, rousing some confusion in her. If not Luke, _who_?

"He avoids the subject too" Ben sighs, "I don't know why he doesn't want to talk to me about him."

"So who does?" Emil wonders, eyes narrowing.

Ben hesitates for a moment, his eyes widening by an inch or two. He fixes on something just over his friend's shoulder, something the girl neither could see nor wanted to see. As though a ghost had just passed over him, Ben returns to his normal self, not acknowledging the odd trance he'd just sunken into.

"Oh, no one" he lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I smell a Snoke!
> 
> I hope this wasn't too boring! Let me know what you think :)


	2. The Ways of the Force.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Emil learn about the Force, but find themselves at odds with some of their peers.

A mere ten minutes since she had woken, Emil finds herself perched on a cushion in the grandest room of the Temple. Ben had roused her from her slumber, shaking her gently and shouting 'Wake up! Wake up!' down her ear. Master Luke had entered his pupil's sleeping quarters with strict instructions to assemble in the Temple at dawn. Emil had just about made it on time.

Her Jedi uniform was scratchy. Emil presumed the fabric to be new, but it didn't feel right. Each student had a different variation of brown. Hers was a much darker shade than Ben's, one she felt did not compliment the paleness of her hair very well. Her hair was a mess, she was _convinced_.

She'd selected her hairbrush, one of the few mementoes she had of her mother, as one of her permitted personal possessions. With so little time, she had been forced to scoop her short, blonde curls into an untidy braid. Ben had tried to tell her that she looked fine, but she didn't believe him.

"Settle down now," Master Luke warns, pacing before the gathered with what appeared to be a branch behind his back, "We've much to get through."

Emil began to worry. Should she have prepared for this lesson? Her tutors on Birren often set her work to complete outside of lessons. She hadn't always completed it, of course, but she cared far more about impressing Master Skywalker than she did some dusty old crank from Birren. Discreetly, she nudges Ben.

"Did we have to prepare for this lesson?" she asks. Ben blinks.

"I hope not" he whispers.

The interaction does not go unnoticed. "Perhaps you can answer my question, Emil?" Master Skywalker poses, pointing the tree branch in the direction of the girl. All others in the class turn to face her, some surprised, others smug. Ben offers her sympathetic smile. Emil had been so worried about missing something that she'd managed to _miss something_.

"Question, Master Skywalker?" Emil stutters, embarrassment evident on her cheeks.

"What _is_ the Force?" Luke repeats. It was not his intention to make the girl uncomfortable, nor was it to mock her. Yet discipline was something he wanted to instil in his students. He'd had his reckless moments, Maker knew it. No doubt his pupils would attempt similar feats at some point in the future. For now, as they embarked upon a journey that would very much change their lives, they simply needed to _listen_.

"The Force is a power that the Jedi possess" Emil answers, noticing Ben squirm to her right, "Its something they can control to manipulate things and people". She hears a chorus of snickers amongst the group. Avoiding their all eye contact, she attempts to curl up as tightly as she could, and perhaps escape altogether.

"And I suppose all of you are experts in such matters? Let he who knows more than Emil stand up and take my place" Luke snaps, wiping every smirk from the room in an instant. He's sure to shoot a kind smile in the girl's direction before continuing. "The Force can be used to move things, and affect the weak-minded. In those regards you are right" the Jedi Master speaks, calm and clear, "But it is not a _power_ , and definitely not one that belongs to the Force-sensitive."

"The Force is what gives the Jedi their power" Ben pipes up, "It's the energy that binds everything". Master Skywalker nods. Emil can't help but feel jealousy. She doesn't vocalise it, though, instead leaving that to another of her peers who quietly murmurs " _know-it-all_ " behind her.

"It lies within and around everything in the universe" Master Luke elucidates fluently, entrancing the young children who sat at his feet, "Not just that which we can touch, but all else too. Life, death. Warmth, cold. All of it."

" _Light,_ _dark_ " Ben mutters. Only Emil seems to hear, though she is sure Luke jerks his head an inch or two.

"What is it that makes _us_ feel the Force?" one boy asks. It was a reasonable question. For those like Ben, to discover a sensitivity to the Force no doubt felt natural. For others, with no clear links to the Jedi Order, it was a total shock. ' _Why me?_ ' Emil had wondered. Was it entirely random, or was there a greater meaning all were oblivious to?

"To be perfectly frank, Tommar, I am not sure. It's simply something we're born with and must learn to adapt to," Luke responds, "Some of us are blessed with a greater affinity for it. We must learn to control our grip on it, for the sake of the galaxy". _For the sake of the galaxy?_ What did he mean? Both Ben and Emil fidget in unison. The latter thought on the Sith, about whom she had read with a shameful amount of interest in her uncle's library, while the former tried to shake away whisperings that lingered at the back of his head.

"Why do some turn to the Light, and others the Dark?" a small brown-haired girl, whom Emil knew to be Kira, quizzes. Again, Ben shuffles. Luke is sure to watch him this time. A look of sad recognition crosses his expression, Emil notes, but is unsure as to why. Could it be related to the hushed conversation he and Leia had engaged in yesterday?

"In its heyday, the Jedi Order taught recruits to be at peace with themselves. Perfect serenity, with no lingering desires or fears that might otherwise cloud their judgement" Master Luke examines, tapping the branch on his left boot as deep thought consumed him, "By great contrast, the Sith found their strength in fear and anger, the very things the Jedi shunned."

"It is worry, passion and self-interest that draws a person to the Dark Side, Kira" Luke sighs, perhaps thinking back to rapidly ageing memories of a sad man with a sinister black helmet and eerily ragged breathing, "We cannot let such things overwhelm us, no matter how desperately they may call". His eyes bore into those of his nephew's now. Ben does not flinch or nod, instead staring back blankly, no, _defiantly_. Emil frowns between the two. She hoped Ben would confide in her before too long. Her imagination would begin to race before long.

"Is sensitivity to the Dark Side something that can be inherited?" she asks, genuinely curious. Emil knew enough of the Empire and the Rebels to know Master Skywalker had confronted the infamous Darth Vader more than once. He must have been tempted by the Dark at some point, surely? How could one not in the presence of someone so inutterably powerful?

"Of course you would ask that" Tommar swipes, catching the girl off guard. She sharply turns her head in his direction and scowls.

"What does _that_ mean?" she growls. From Ben, she had learned that Tommar was an orphan boy from Dantooine, having lost his mother to childbirth and his father to a mining accident. Also being an orphan, she had wanted to sympathise with him before now. " _Well_?" she barks. Were her uncle present, the boy would have been thrown in chains.

"Someone told me that your mother married an officer of the Empire" Tommar snarls, unusually bitter in his tone for one so young, "Your surname is Khai, after the Imperial Admiral". Luke opens his mouth to interject but is soon drowned out by the unfolding argument. _Children_ , he thinks to himself, how _awfully pugnacious they could be_.

"I belong to House Mellowyn" Emil curtly responds, far angrier with the boy than she cared to be, "I shan't bother asking your family name. If you even have one". She knew that was harsh, but in her frustration she had let it slip. Remorseful, she looks to Master Luke. He was _disappointed_.

"Leave her alone" Ben instructs, lifting his robes slightly so Tommar could see the lightsaber clipped to his belt. Panic strikes the boy, but he does not fall silent.

"Stay out of it, Solo" he tears. Emil is sure Ben is ready to leap, but Master Luke quietens all three by landing the tree branch he carries directly in between them. Gracefully it had floated through the air, ignoring the conflict developing below, with Luke making barely a sound.

"How do you think I moved that branch so easily?" he addresses his class, exterior commendably calm.

"It wasn't anger or spite that drove me" the Jedi continues, directly looking at the three culprits now, "It was that same serenity we talked about earlier. Petty conflict has no place in a Temple like this. A true Jedi does not allow himself to be _rattled_ so easily". Emil gulps. Only yesterday she'd asked Leia if Luke would banish her were she to prove hopeless. Had she sealed her fate already?

"This is why Jedi pupils of the past spent so long in training" Master Luke smiles, somehow aware of the girl's pain, "I do not expect you all to master your use of the Force overnight. It will take time". Emil finds herself suddenly cheered. Guilt would grip her for the remainder of the day, but she could at least find comfort in the knowledge that outbursts such as hers were part of the _old_ her, one she would steadily learn to leave behind.

"The best way to reinforce the importance of failure is to exact a _punishment_ of some kind," Master Luke says, "The three of you will spend this evening sweeping my study". Tommar groans, but Ben and Emil say nothing. In their minds, it was no less than they deserved.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this" the girl speaks quietly.

"Don't apologise" Ben replies, "You're my friend."

Emil feels her heart skip a beat or two. _Friend_. She'd managed to make a _friend_. It was the first time she'd heard the word applied to her and not felt it to be fake. Unbeknownst to her, Ben felt the same.

"Master?" one boy calls out, a welcome distraction from the argument that had blighted an otherwise enjoyable lesson. Luke looks across.

"When do we get to use lightsabers?"

* * *

Emil had never cleaned a floor before. She'd picked up a broom, but only to pretend it was a sword, bravely vanquishing dastardly foes she'd concocted in her mind. She articulates this to the two boys mopping with her, to their amusement. "My father used to make me clean the _Falcon_ sometimes," Ben says.

"That seems quite unfair" Emil pouts. She thinks back to her last journey in the freighter. It had looked as though it needed a good clean, so clearly Ben's absence was making itself known.

"I didn't mind" Ben insists, the first time in too long that he'd thought on memories with his father _fondly_. He'd not even bothered to say goodbye yesterday, Ben instead tolerating another string of excuses from his mother about how essential it was he stay by the _Falcon_.

"I didn't actually want to be a Jedi" Ben confesses, "I always wanted to be a pilot". In the corner he had resigned himself to, Tommar scoffs.

"I bet the biggest thing you've steered is a speeder" the boy cackles. Ben dismisses his malice with a sideways glance.

"And what's your great talent?" he flings, "It definitely isn't mopping". He and Emil judge their peer's feeble strokes from afar, the water dripping from the mop's head barely spreading at all. Tommar simply grumbles beneath his breath. What made a boy of such tender years so vengeful neither Ben nor Emil knew.

"My grandfather was a good pilot, the best in the galaxy" Ben recalls, gazing ahead absentmindedly. Wary of further mockery from their classmate, Emil edges closer to him and speaks in a low tone.

"How did you find that out?" she asks. If neither Master Luke nor his parents were willing to tell Ben about his grandfather, whom did he turn to? Emil was sure she'd heard her friend muttering to someone as she drifted to sleep last night. She'd considered whether he had some kind of communicator about his person, but that theory had been debunked when she spotted him turn her way with empty hands.

"How is it you found these things out about your grandfather?". As before, Ben seems to lose focus. He shivers this time, recoiling slightly as though something had just whispered in his ear. Emil scanned the study. There was no one but the three of them.

"I can't tell you" Ben rejoins, "He wouldn't like that."

"Oh, okay" Emil stammers, quietly alarmed by the mention of a _He_.

Once more curiosity gets the better of her. "Could he tell me anything about my father?" she blurts. Emil waits for the invisible _he_ to cross over her friend's consciousness again. This time Ben is forced to close his eyes, his chest heaving. From the tip of his tongue slips a name. " _Khai_ " he breathes.

Naturally, the name draws the attention of the brooding Tommar. "That man led a raid on a rebel base on Dantooine, during the days of the Empire" he hurls, "It was abandoned, so he unleashed his frustrations on a nearby village. _My_ village."

Ben lets him catch sight of his lightsaber again, and the boy doesn't say another word. "You don't think my father really was an Imperial officer, do you?" Emil frets.

"I don't know" Ben admits. Suddenly he snaps his fingers in the air, a bright idea coming to him unexpectedly. He sets aside his mop, prompting Emil to follow suit, and approaches the large, rounded object that stood dormant in a corner of the study.

"R2?" Ben calls, gently tapping the sleeping droid with his knuckle, "R2?". With a slow whirr, R2-D2 stirs from his slumber, his power reserves blessedly full. Emil can't help but giggle as the droid creaks to its tiny legs. She'd felt like that this morning.

"I've not seen an R2 unit like this for some time!" Emil exclaims excitedly, "My uncle thought they'd gone out of fashion". Droids were not frequent guests at the court of Birren. Emil had resorted to constructing her own entertainment.

"R2, do you know anything about an Admiral Khai, of the Galactic Empire?" Ben queries. The droid responds in a series of _beeps_ Emil knew to be Binary.

"Commander of the _Conqueror_? That sounds like a Star Destroyer" Emil interprets.

"And a leading tutor at the Imperial Academy on Arkanis, alongside Brendol Hux" Ben nods. Both were still clueless as to how the man might be Emil's father. Birren had largely been uninvolved in the conflict between Imperials and Rebels, but Lord Mellowyn had privately funded much of the latter's endeavours. It was as much to do with his fondness for Princess Leia as it was his values. How could he _possibly_ have allowed an agent of the Galactic Empire to marry Emil's mother? Unless the reality of their relationship was not so romantic, of course.

"Do you think the others believe he is my father?" Emil sighs, bowing her head sadly. She'd succeeded in befriending Ben, but now ran the risk of alienating everyone else. _Oh bother_ , she thinks, _why could things have not played as they'd done in my head?_

"Maybe" Ben speaks earnestly, "But doesn't matter to me who your father is."

"It does to me" Tommar bellows. He seizes his bucket and begins to charge. His intended targets have instinct enough to quickly roll out of the way, but R2-D2, protesting with a sequence of panicked sounds, is not so fortunate. Water hits his outer shell hard, much of it splashing back into Tommar's face. The droid soon begins to twitch, however, many of the lights on his exterior now flashing irregularly. Flooded, R2 gives a strangled squeak.

"You've hurt him!" Emil curses. Ben shoves Tommar away and kneels down to assess the damage. "Uncle Luke is going to _murder_ us" he moans, head in his hands.

"Better you than me, Solo" Tommar retorts. Emil shivers, but she doesn't know why.

"The situation isn't so dire" she realises, "There must be an expelling mechanism somewhere". She runs her hand alongside R2's cool shell, searching for a switch or button of some kind that would rid the poor droid of the water festering inside him. _That one_. Emil is startled by a voice resting at the back of her skull. _It's that one_ , it repeats, edging her hand towards a small red switch she had not noticed before. _Thank you_ , she compliments the voice, only to hear her own words echoing back to her.

Setting aside her confusion, she applies pressure to the switch and watches as the small panels that form R2's top lift with a soft hiss. Once more she and Ben duck out of the way, leaving Tommar to be struck by an excess of murky water. The two pupils giggle behind their hands, justice very much served.

"R2, why are you torturing my students?". The voice of Master Luke prompts everyone in the study to stand to attention. The droid responds to his owner with the sarcastic use of an expletive or two, before expelling the remaining water in his systems. "Your mop seems very _dry_ , Tommar" Luke states, "And both you and my droid appear very damp. I don't suppose there's any correlation?". Tommar seems to shrink unto himself, ashamed. Ben and Emil draw more satisfaction from the sight than reason allowed.

They're not quite so smug when Master Luke turns his all-knowing stare in their direction, however. "Why do I get the impression the two of you are going to prove enormous _troublemakers_?" he remarks, amusement gracing his peaceful countenance, "Force, save the galaxy from the pair of you."

Master Luke sent the three to bed soon after, promising them supper would await them in their rooms. Tommar marches ahead without a second glance, but Ben and Emil take a more leisurely stroll. Night was beginning to descend on Taris, and with it came the gradual rising of an abnormally large moon. She and Ben watch it as they idly patter forward.

"Do you think Master Luke will ever tell us what it is we really want to know?" Emil ponders aloud. She'd known the Jedi for barely any time at all. She figured she would have to earn his trust before he was ready to divulge such information.

"I hope so" Ben answers, "In the meantime, what do we do?"

"Find out ourselves?" Emil suggests, mischief in her bubbling up. It's a sensation Ben appears to reciprocate, for he glances back at the Temple with a devilish smile.

"Uncle Luke must have a library of some kind" he grins.

Emil already agrees to the plan. "Then I suggest we explore it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why do I get the impression the two of you are going to prove enormous troublemakers?"
> 
> Oh, Luke, if only you knew!
> 
> Again, sorry if my chapters are too long! I'm worried I might focus too much on Emil, too. I suppose I'm slightly attached now :)
> 
> Let me know what you think, if anything!


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